


An unexpected visitor

by chiara_scuro



Series: Arrival of the birds [2]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Carry On Countdown (Simon Snow), Day 7: Animal(s), Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, Idk what i'm doing, M/M, Mentions of Sex, a bradley cooper cameo, is that like a tag?, listen...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:29:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27819037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiara_scuro/pseuds/chiara_scuro
Summary: BP [15:06]: I’m homeBP [15:06]: I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but there’s a bird in your houseBP [15:07]: It looks rather angrySS [15:13]: !!!!SS [15:13]: i’ll b back shortlyBP [15:14]: The bird, Snow. Is it going to eat me?SS [15:14]: no hes coolSS [15:14]: see u soonSS [15:14]: be nice to my son
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: Arrival of the birds [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035630
Comments: 10
Kudos: 70
Collections: Carry On Countdown 2020





	An unexpected visitor

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> This fic was written for COC prompt Animal(s) and is a sequel to my fic [Arrival of the birds.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25803136/chapters/62675815) You don't have to read AOB to understand it, but it does contain spoilers for the ending, since this fic takes place about a year after the final chapter of AOB. 
> 
> I'd like to thank [Aristocratic_Otter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aristocratic_Otter/pseuds/Aristocratic_Otter) for beta reading this
> 
> Also a fair warning, this fic is T rated but it does include casual menitons of sex, just in case you're not comfortable with reading that. If you think the rating should be changed, let me know!

BAZ

Coming back to the village after a full week of working in Manchester is like therapy for my lungs. I never thought I’d appreciate fresh air this much, but here we are. (When we met, Simon told me I should get more fresh air. A year and a half later, I realize he was right, but I’d never let him know that.)

I haven’t been here for two whole weeks. Usually, I make the effort to come home every weekend and whenever I have time on weekdays, but between grading papers and going back to Hampshire for Mordelia’s birthday, I just couldn’t afford it. Simon couldn’t either, otherwise he would've come to Manchester to visit me, but springtime is always a busy time if you’re an ornithologist.

My heart is practically racing as I pull up in front of his house, because I’m so excited to see him. I grab the pizza boxes from the passenger seat (he asked me to bring him pizza from Manchester since you can’t get it in the village) and fish my keys out of my pocket. Simon is probably still at the moor, since his car isn’t here, but I can make myself comfortable while I wait.

I drop the pizzas on the kitchen table – messy as always, with books and maps strewn all across it – and head for the lounge, pulling out my phone to let Simon know I’m home. Only once I drop myself on the sofa do I see it. A large, metal cage in the corner of his winter garden, containing a patchy brown bird the size of a pigeon and a beak almost as long as its body. The bird is crouching in the corner of the cage, looking like it’s sulking.

I pull out my phone and text Simon because I honestly don’t know what to make of this situation.

**BP [15:06]: I’m home  
BP [15:06]: I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but there’s a bird in your house  
BP [15:07]: It looks rather angry**

It takes him a few minutes to respond.

**SS [15:13]: !!!!  
SS [15:13]: i’ll b back shortly**

**BP [15:14]: The bird, Snow. Is it going to eat me?**

**SS [15:14]: no hes cool**  
**SS [15:14]: see u soon**  
**SS [15:14]: be nice to my son**

I smile and roll my eyes at his text. Then I set my phone down and look at the bird. It stares back at me intently.

“Hello, my boyfriend’s son,” I try. No answer – it doesn’t even blink. (Can birds blink? I should ask Simon.) “Well, if he’s adopted you, that means I’m also your father so you have to listen to me; don’t eat me in my sleep. Simon would be very disappointed.”

The bird cocks its head at me and then starts making a high pitched, squeaky sound, like rubber shoes on hardwood floors and I startle. It keeps going for a few seconds. 

“You can talk,” I mutter. I try to figure out the species – you think after over a year of dating an ornithologist, I’d be good at that, but I have no idea what it is. My first instinct was a curlew, but curlews are bigger and with curved beaks. They’re one of the few birds I can recognize, since I spent a good portion of last summer helping Simon track their populations. (Well, he tracked them, I made the Excel spreadsheets.)

Maybe it’s a baby curlew?

The bird starts emitting its sounds again and it doesn’t stop. I roll my eyes.

“Okay, you’ve made your point.”

It keeps going, sounding like a basketball game or a window cleaning symphony.

“Bird, as your foster father, I would like you to stop now.”

It looks me straight in the eyes and keeps squeaking.

“No respect for authority whatsoever. Just like your father.”

Squeak, squeak, squeak.

“Okay, I’ll make some tea and maybe you can calm down,” I tell it, shuffling to the kitchen. Maybe my presence was distressing. The squeaking stops as soon as I leave the room. I put the kettle on and get two cups ready – I know Simon will want some once he gets home.

As if on cue, his car pulls up in the driveway. He’s back early; it usually takes him longer to come back from the moor. I lean back on the counter and wait for him to stop fussing with the door lock and his shoes. (It’s a process – I’m used to it.)

His face breaks out in a grin when he gets to the kitchen. “Hi.” He crosses the space between us in a few steps and then he’s pulling me into a kiss. His nose is cold but his mouth is warm and I’ve missed this more than I care to admit. My hands come up to his face – his cheeks are cold too – and I pull him closer.

We only break apart when the kettle clicks.

“Hey yourself, Snow. You’re back early,” I say, pressing another kiss to his forehead before turning around to finish fixing our tea.

“Yeah, I was at Ebb’s,” he says, snaking his arms around my waist and pressing himself closer to me.

“Missed me?” I ask, intertwining my fingers with his.

“Yes, you git.” He presses a kiss on the back of my neck and then another one on my shoulder. “I know you missed me too so stop acting all cool about it.”

“Excuse me, Snow, I’m always cool.”

“Sure you are,” he laughs, pressing a kiss on my cheek before letting go of me. He grabs his cup of tea with one hand and my hand with his other and pulls me to the lounge. That’s when I remember I still have to ask him about the bird.

“Dare I ask why there is a wild animal in our house?” I ask as we sit down on the sofa. The bird shuffles slightly on its feet.

“Um, his foot is injured and Ebb doesn’t have enough space for him since it seems like every sheep in the five-mile radius has been struck by some disease so her hands are full and she left him in my care. I went to hers to pick up some antibiotic cream for him. His name is Bradley,” he explains. I sputter.

“You’ve named it Bradley? After Bradley Cooper?”

“No, not after Bradley Cooper!”

I raise my eyebrow at him. I have a dirty crush on Bradley Cooper and he knows it – there’s no way he didn’t name it after Bradley Cooper.

“Fine, after Bradley Cooper,” he admits, blushing a little.

“You’re impossible,” I laugh, putting my arm around him. He leans on my shoulder. “So, how long is young Bradley staying for?”

“Probably a day or two. We just need his wound to close a little so he doesn’t get any infections. You can feed him worms,” he offers. I wrinkle my nose.

“I would prefer not to. He’s not very well behaved – he kept making sounds at me earlier. Sounded nothing like Bradley Cooper,” I say. Simon’s face breaks out to a grin.

“Really? Was it like this?” he imitates the squeaking sound. He’s scarily good at that.

“It was exactly like that.”

“Maybe he was flirting with you,” Simon suggests. I turn to the bird.

“You’re just like your father,” I tell it. Simon starts laughing and the bird tucks its beak under its wing. “What species did you say he was?” I ask, turning back to Simon.

“I didn’t. He’s a snipe. They’re pretty common ‘round here. I’m sure you’ve seen them before.”

“Hm. Maybe I wasn’t paying attention,” I say, because I really don’t remember seeing snipes before. “See, usually when I go birdwatching, I’m in some very distracting company.”

Simon laughs again and nudges me. “I’m in a distracting company too, but you don’t see me forgetting what a snipe looks like.”

“That’s because you’re a nerd,” I tease him.

“Shut up, you love it,” he smirks, angling his head up and pressing a kiss on my cheek. And then another. And another. 

“I do love it,” I admit while he peppers kisses across my face. I turn my head, about to kiss him back when the bird starts squeaking. “Bradley, do you mind, we’re having a moment here,” I tell it. Simon starts laughing again.

“Maybe he wants food.”

“There’s some pizza on the table,” I offer. He rolls his eyes and gets up.

“Excuse me, you were going to kiss me!” I protest. “I should’ve known you’d dismiss our love for a bird.”

Simon rolls his eyes again (he might’ve picked that up from me) and leans down, giving me a quick peck. “You’re so dramatic sometimes,” he tells me.

“You love it.”

“Eh…” he shrugs, turning around to head to the kitchen.

I pick up a pillow from the sofa and throw it at his back. “You do,” I repeat. He turns around and throws the pillow back at me, grinning at me as he does so.

“I could deal without the aggression, Pitch,” he says.

“Really? A little bit of roughhousing has never bothered you before!” I call out to him. He’s in the kitchen already, his back turned to me, so I can’t see him, but I’m pretty sure he’s smiling and rolling his eyes right now. (I really need to reconsider my influence on him.)

“Not in front of our child!” he calls back.

“Bradley is no child of mine!” I say and look at the bird. It looks back at me with its black beady eyes and squeaks. “Okay, maybe he is!”

“I knew you’d change your mind,” Simon says, coming back into the lounge, carefully holding a saucer in his hand. I make a mistake of peeking at what’s on it and am met with a pile of worms. _Live_ worms.

“Snow, what are you feeding our child?” I ask, horrified. I also make a mental note to never use this saucer again.

“Mealworms,” he replies, getting on his knees by the cage. He carefully unlatches the door and slides the saucer in. The bird shuffles further into the corner. “These are like scones for him.”

“Bradley, I find your eating habits to be slightly concerning. Just like your father’s.”

“Shut up,” Simon laughs. Then he moves forward and grabs my hand. “Come on, let’s give him some privacy so that he feels comfortable enough to eat.”

He pulls me up the stairs and into our bedroom.

“I’ve only been home for an hour and you’re already dragging me into bed, Snow,” I joke as he pushes the bedroom door opened.

“Stop being a wanker,” he rolls his eyes. 

“I haven’t seen you in two weeks, what else am I supposed to be?” I ask, laughing. He laughs too and shakes his head.

“I don’t know, nice?”

“Nice? You want me to be nice?” I smirk as I push him back into bed, toppling over him. I start kissing down his neck, feeling him melt against me. “I’ll give you nice,” I mutter against his skin.

His hands come up to cup my face and he pulls me towards him, crashing our lips together. He runs his tongue along my bottom lip, wrapping one of his arms around my waist and pulling me closer and I sigh happily. I’ve missed this so much. I break contact just enough to tell him so.

“Oh, so you can be nice,” he smirks and rolls us over, so that he’s on top. “I missed you too.”

He trails little kisses along my jaw and I close my eyes. So good.

“That’s a bit obvious, love,” I say, my breath hitching as he nips the spot behind my ear.

“Is it?”

“Well, you could make it more obvious.”

I don’t even finish the sentence before he’s attacking my neck, his fingers fumbling with my shirt buttons. He gets about half of them undone, when the bird starts squeaking again, loud enough that we can hear it clearly from the lounge.

We both start laughing and he collapses against my chest. My arms come up around him. “I can’t… that is the least sexy sound ever,” he says.

“It’s not very mood appropriate,” I agree. “Shall we wait for him to stop?”

“Yes.”

Something must’ve possessed the bird, though, because it doesn’t stop. It keeps screaming and screaming and every time we think it’s going to stop, it starts screaming again.

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I wish Bradley Cooper would stop interfering with our sex life,” I sigh after fifteen minutes of squeaking. Simon starts laughing.

“Is this what it feels like having children?”

“I’m pretty sure it is.”

“He sure does have a lot to say, doesn’t he?” Simon giggles.

“Maybe he’s screaming _Father, why have you forsaken me_ in bird language?” I suggest and we both start laughing about it.

“I think he’s just horny.”

“Well, that makes two of us. Please tell me this bird isn’t nocturnal.”

“We’re in luck,” Simon says.

“At least we have that,” I sigh. “Do you want to watch that film we said we were going to watch?”

“I thought we were waiting for him to shut up?” Simon raises his eyebrows at me.

“It’s been fifteen minutes and my chest is getting cold.”

“Well maybe if you stopped shaving it…”

“We are not having this discussion right now,” I laugh, pushing him off me.

“I’m just saying…”

“Well, I’m just saying maybe we should put on a film and you should cuddle me. How does that sound?”

“You’re so demanding,” he chuckles and presses a kiss on my cheek. “It sounds brilliant.”

**Author's Note:**

> Before I say anything else: I don't think Baz shaves his chest hair but I really wanted to make the joke. Okay, now that we got the discourse out of the way, I hope you enjoyed reading this, I really enjoyed writing it, it was great fun to go back to the AOB universe and I might write more oneshots with them because I absolutely love ornithologist!Simon
> 
> Bird facts time!  
> Snipes are actually also known for a sound called [drumming](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xst3qhAVazU) which is their "mating call" and it's not actually produced by their vocal chords but by their tail feathers in flight (so Bradley wasn't flirting with Baz since he was sitting down)  
> And here is also the infamous [squeaking sound.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eY8Rhf1HTCw) Sounds like a chicken on helium if you ask me
> 
> Anyway, that's all for now, here's [my tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/vampire-named-gampire)


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